


Permission

by Helltease



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 13:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helltease/pseuds/Helltease





	1. Chapter 1

She always loved Clara in a nice button-up. She’d told her that several dozen times, and today was no different. However, there was more than a little apprehension in the Doctor’s expression when she saw the toy strapped around Clara’s hips. Her friend understood why, and to her credit didn’t mock it for an instant. She smiled, touching the Doctor’s shoulders lightly, then bringing her hands down her bare chest, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her hearts. 

“I know it must be a bit weird for you, considering, you know, everything, but you know I’m gonna take good care of you. Right?”

The Doctor bit her lip and bounced on her heels a moment. Not exactly reassuring.

Clara leaned in, her voice dropped a little, her hands moved just a few inches down to seize the Doctor’s attention between finger and thumb. “Have I ever let you down before?” She smiled, gave a tiny little pinch. “Have I?”

“No,” the Doctor admitted quietly.

“With my mouth?” Clara asked. 

“No.”

“My hands?”

“No.”

“And don’t forget the time I put my fingers in--”

“Okay, okay! You win. I get it. Fine. We’ll… try.”

“Good,” Clara beamed. She moved her hands to the Doctor’s sides and helped ease her down onto the bed, until she was perched neatly on the end, and then she kissed her, slow and deep. Clara’s tongue filled the Doctor’s mouth, warm and controlling, gently guiding her down onto the bed. She captured every gasp to escape the blonde’s mouth as she brought their hips together, not forceful in the slightly, just letting the Doctor be filled until the two were still against each other.

“How is it?”

“Really, really weird,” the Doctor replied.

“Bring your knees up a little, like… Yeah, just like that. Now you tell me if it’s too much. I’ll start nice and slow.” She gave her a quick, reassuring kiss on the mouth, a hand gliding down the Doctor’s side as she began to work her hips, but the Doctor didn’t need to say a word. Her expression, the whimpers that parted her lips and the way she raised her body to meet Clara’s said more than words ever could.

“Oh, you like it,” Clara teased. She’d quickly discovered that talk during sex ruined the Doctor faster than anything, “feels good, huh? Let’s see how much you can take. No, no, look at me, don’t close your eyes or I’ll stop, Doctor. I’ll stop.” Her threat worked, the Doctor’s eyes opened and she made the most adorable whimpering sound, just shy of actually begging. Clara almost felt bad for what she had planned.

She picked up the pace, though never too much, never too fast. She couldn’t risk overwhelming her. Her hearts were already racing. Clara had seen how quickly the Doctor could lose control, that was partly why she was watching so closely; every little twitch could have been the warning sign to stop. 

A gasp, a moment’s tension, her back arched. Clara had seconds or less to decide to be kind, to let her lover climax in her arms or… 

Clara pulled away, out and up, leaving the Doctor grasping at thin air and shuddering in a desperate need.

“W-what are you doing?!” She blinked up at Clara, her eyes hazy and confused. She had sex hair, which amused Clara far too much.

“Taking a break,” the brunette smiled. Her tone was playful, her eyes were cruel.

“A break?! But I didn’t… Did I do something wrong?” 

Cute question, Clara thought. “Wrong? Not exactly. But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet. You don’t have my permission.”

She watched the Doctor for a moment, enjoying the sight of her conflict, that part of her that never asked for permission, the interferer, the meddler, and the part of her that said pretty please when Clara worked her fingers in just the right way.

“Permission,” the Doctor mused. Clara could see the idea take hold in her eye. “What’s stopping me from just doing the rest myself?”

She was sitting up now, and Clara only had to lean in to speak directly into her ear. “Do that and you’ll never have me again,” she said simply, all smirk.

The Doctor shivered, then nodded quickly, wetting her lips. “How do I… earn it?”

Clara pulled away and grinned, bringing her hands to the Doctor’s shoulders once more. “I was thinking you could start by cleaning up the mess you made of my cock.” She gestured, and the Doctor’s eyes widened at the visible wetness of the rubber strap-on at Clara’s hips.

“Cleaning up?!”

“On your knees, Doctor,” Clara took her place on the end of the bed as the Doctor reluctantly slipped down to her knees, blinking up at Clara. She was a sight to behold, naked and sweaty and needy, all of Clara’s favourite things. 

“How am I supposed to--?”

Clara reached out to put a hand in her hair, then gave a gentle tug. “Start with your tongue.”

The Doctor paled.

Clara laughed softly. There was a pause, a look of do I have to? and a nod, then the Doctor leaned in and gave the tiniest lick she could. Then, after a somewhat scornful look from Clara, another, and another, just around the head as Clara watched with a smirk. 

“Deeper,” she ordered, when the Doctor seemed to be growing a little too comfortable with her little licks, “or I’ll keep you like this for a week. Maybe longer.” The Doctor tensed, and Clara, in a moment’s cruel inspiration, pressed her ankle down firmly against the Doctor’s wet core and gave a single slow rub, watching as she shuddered and gasped around the toy, then nodded and continued with a whimper and considerably more effort. “That’s my girl. Clean it all up. Take it all the way.”

The Doctor gagged several times, but between Clara’s tugging on her hair and the rocking of the brunette’s hips, she had little choice but to take what she was given, and to her credit she took it well, pausing only on occasion to gasp and splutter before being forced back down until, at last, Clara pulled away, seemingly satisfied.

“Did I… did I do it? Earn it, I mean?” The Doctor panted.

Clara smiled. For a moment she was tempted to say yes, to relent and give the Doctor everything she desired. Besides, watching that little performance had left her rather in need herself. She shook her head gave her skirt a sharp tug. 

“Not yet, Doctor. Me first. Quick as you like.”


	2. Chapter 2

To the Doctor's misfortune, Clara quickly discovered that the Time Lord performed with considerably more enthusiasm when she was in a state of need than when she was satisfied. A hand in the hair, she watched as the Doctor lapped greedily at her core, glancing up occasionally as if for approval. It was too cute for words. 

"Tasty?" Clara grinned.

The Doctor murmured her approval, too preoccupied to speak, her cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink as Clara tugged at her hair and forced her in even closer.

"Drink me down," the brunette said softly. She was certainly wet enough for the Doctor to do just that, and watched with great interest as she sucked and swallowed around her entrance, her tongue swirling about her for good measure. She really must have been aching badly to put on such a show, Clara thought. That was too bad.

"Just my clit now, there's a good girl, nice long licks," oh, perfection. The Doctor had her close faster than she'd anticipated, but it didn't matter, she could hold it off for a little while longer, "eyes on me, there we are."

"Can I have your ankle again?" The Doctor asked quickly, her tone just a little whiny. It didn't suit her, but it was truly adorable.

"You're that desperate?" Clara couldn't hide her amusement for an instant. "Say please."

"Please." No hesitation. 

Clara relented, pressing her ankle back between the Doctor's legs. "You can have it, but no coming, understood?"

The Doctor whined her acknowledgement, burying her mouth once more against Clara's soaked folds as her hips began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Clara inched closer to release, her grip in the Doctor's hair tightening a little, twisting ever so slightly. "Suck now, nice and hard." She ordered, and the Doctor obeyed. Clara's eyes squeezed shut, her ankle working just a little as a small reward and then, with a soft cry and a shudder, she came, holding the Doctor to her core until she was spent and panting and only then did she pull her leg away.

"N-no, I need to--"

Clara gave her a stern look, which took considerable effort given how relaxed she suddenly was. 

"I said no. Look at the mess you made." 

The Doctor swallowed and blinked. Her face was a mess, yes, but Clara was gesturing to her ankle. 

"All that mess is yours. Get down there and lick it up if you ever want to come again."

Maybe she was being too mean, she thought, but the plans she'd already made were far worse, and the Doctor only seemed shy, not completely opposed to doing what she was told. The Time Lord slipped down, her blush growing considerably as she contemplated her task, and then, with a final glance up at Clara and a reassuring nod, she leaned in and began to lick at Clara's soaked ankle. 

"That's my good girl," Clara hummed, smiling down wickedly at her. "You must want it so bad."

The Doctor only groaned, not rising up until her task was finished and not standing until Clara commanded it. 

Her fingertips slipped between the Doctor's legs and the sudden jolting reaction made her laugh. So sensitive. She skimmed her fingers up and down along the Doctor's soaked flesh, exploring her, drawing out every whimper and gasp she could, her thumb working cruel circles at her clit.

"Beg for it."

"Please, Clara--"

"Full sentences."

The Doctor shuddered, her eyes squeezed shut momentarily as she struggled to hold back her orgasm.

"Please l-let me come, Clara." 

No answer, just a flick of her wrist and a sudden increase in speed. The Doctor gasped. 

"Please, please..."

"Can you hold it?"

"I don't know, I d-don't..."

"I'll ask again," quicker still, Clara's eyes burned into the Doctor's, her expression was absolute, "can you hold it?"

The Doctor tensed and whimpered out a quiet little "yes," her eyes rolling as Clara's fingertips ran back and forth, coating themselves in her wetness as she edged the Time Lord closer and closer to that release. 

And then she stopped.

"Tongue out," she ordered.

"No, p-please, Clara, I need--"

"Tongue. Out."

"Please, I just need a little more--"

"Now." Clara's tone silenced her, and the Doctor stuck out her tongue with a shaky breath, she looked almost close to tears.

Clara made no attempt to be gentle with what she did next, wiping her soaked fingers across the Doctor's face and open mouth, leaving her a complete mess before she stepped away with a smile. 

"Stay here. I'm going to get something. Keep your legs together and your hands to yourself, if you drip on the floor you'll be licking it up, am I clear?"

The Doctor was stunned to silence, and managed a tiny nod before Clara left the room. 

She made her wait far longer than she had to, just because she could. In fact, she found what she was looking for almost immediately, in the depths of the wardrobe, a leather harness she was quick to repurpose.

"This," she said, entering the room and moving herself behind the Doctor, who stood obediently but impatiently in place, naked and messy and gorgeous, "is a chastity belt. You're going to wear it for me tonight." She gave the leather a wave, then wrapped it around the Doctor's waist and in between her legs nice and tightly. 

"W-why?"

"Because you're mine. And because I say so. And because I don't want you even thinking about coming until I say so. Are we clear?" She fastened the belt and the Doctor winced, then nodded breathlessly.

"Clear."


End file.
